


Miscommunication Could Kill

by MutinousMoony



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Ratings: R, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 18:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10418436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MutinousMoony/pseuds/MutinousMoony
Summary: Romano is finally coming to terms with his love for the wonderful Antonio, only to be faced with the worst case scenario. Will they be able to work it out? Or will Romano's refusal to listen ruin the both of them.





	

    Romano couldn’t take it any more. He desperately wanted to tell Spain about his feelings, but the shell he had put in place around his heart all those years ago, made it nearly impossible. Antonio, with his perfect attitude, his perfect smile and that oh so _ perfect  _ ass. Lovino would have given anything to make Antonio happy, and he knew that meant taking himself out of the picture. His feelings were at the brim of spilling over and out into the world. Antonio, being his oblivious self, had never noticed the small blushes and hints that Lovino constantly put out for everyone to see. He knew all the other nations had noticed, as they always dropped hints at him. Lovino thought very low of himself, so he was always in a bad mood. Put a cage up and you can’t get hurt any more than you already have. Sound logic, but only to himself. All the other nations got along to a degree, but Romano could hardly get along with his own brother, let alone anyone else. But of course, he always pushed Antonio away. Which threw him into a spiral of self-hatred, pining and so on and so forth. The idea that, maybe Antonio loved him as well had never occurred to the small Italian. Blocking everyone out had become a talent that now as he thinks about it, may have become a major disadvantage. He still continued doing so nonetheless.

    Everyday Lovino watched longingly as Antonio came and did his business in their small apartment, then left, continuing with his day. Sometimes, Lovino would even watch him sleep. Every time he did so, he fell more and more in love. On one particular night though, as Romano sat in the living room watching the small TV, Antonio came home late. Lovino had waited up until 2am just to welcome him back, only to find the man dead drunk with a woman hanging off of his elbow. Lovino stood by the door and gawked as Antonio pushed him aside and led the woman to his room. Tears welled in his eyes as he fell to the floor. Covering his mouth to muffle the sobs that wracked his body, he slowly stood up and made his way to his room. Flopping onto the bed, he curled into a ball and hugged his pillow. He cried for what felt like hours. After his fit had finished, he stood up with a blank expression and made his way to the bathroom. He searched desperately through the drawers, and finally found what he was looking for. Behold, small sharp edged object able to cut! He stood up and took a deep breath while staring at his puffy face in the mirror. He raised the razor and his arms above the sink. Touching the solid blade to his fair skin, he drew it downwards, taking in a quick breath as he did. Oh it  _ hurt _ , but he pulled it back and sliced his arm again, this time in a different spot. Over and over and over again he repeated this process until the blood was all over him, the sink and the floor. He slumped down to the floor, laughing as he lay in a puddle of his own gore. His eyes closed as he lay there, staring at the ceiling. Smiling, he slipped into the tranquility of sleep.

He heard a female scream and felt someone shaking him desperately. Slowly, he opened his eyes to Antonio holding him, muttering quiet phrases with his head in Lovino’s neck. Lovino reached up and stroked Antonio’s soft, curly hair. The Spaniard pulled his head back and looked into Romano’s eyes.

“Oh  _ Dios mío _ .” Antonio groaned and pulled Lovino towards him. ”Thank God you’re okay, if you died  _ mi corzón,  _ I would have killed you.” Lovino winced at the Spanish phrase and Antonio noticed, but didn’t say anything.

“I'm fine,” Lovino pushed on Antonio in an attempt to get him off. “You can let me go now,” the Italian man said threateningly. Antonio let him stand but still tried to steady him. Lovino, angered at his touch, pushed Antonio hard.

“I’m  _ fine  _ you bastard!” Lovino shouted, panting “Go mess around with your stupid  _ PROSTITUTE! _ ” He pointed towards the woman, who looked taken aback. Lovino stomped off into his room, slamming the door behind him. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, breathing slowly, unmoving. A few hours later, he heard the soft knock on his door. He groaned and stood up, putting his back against the door so the Spaniard could not get in.

“What do you want?” he growled, pressing his back harder onto the door.

“I want to come in and talk,” said the soothing voice on the other side. Lovino took a deep breath, thinking about it. He opened the door and walked back to his bed, leaving Spain to his own choice as to come in or not. He took the opportunity and sat down near Lovino on the spacious bed. He reached for Lovino’s hand, but it was pulled away quickly, and safely tucked between his legs.

“Why?” was all Antonio said. Lovino had to think about how he was going to phrase his answer.

“Did you think I wouldn’t care that you brought a strange woman into our house?” Lovino growled. “How did you think I felt about you? Were you too oblivious and  _ stupid  _ to get the hint? I may be over-reacting but god dammit,” a pause, “I don’t even want to look at you!”

“Lovi,” he used the nickname that Romano hated. “I was drunk and upset...I-I wanted to clear my head and get rid of the ache I was feeling...I barely even remember what happened.”  He paused with his head down. “I’m so sorry Romano.” He got up and Romano could see the tears in his eyes as he moved towards the door. He threw one last glance at the man on the bed, then shut the door. Lovino lied back down onto his bed, tears welling in his eyes. Wiping them away, he rolled onto his side and pulled the blankets on top of himself. He closed his eyes and drifted into a troubled sleep.

Lovino woke gently to the sound of a guitar being played down the hall. He looked over to his bedside dresser and there was a glass of water and some pain killers. Despite the fact that he was a country, his arms still hurt like hell. Looking down at his arms, he noticed they were carefully wrapped.  _ Stupid bastard _ he thought to himself. He grabbed one of the pills and swallowed, chasing it down with the water.

He walked out of his room and towards the kitchen. Seated at the table with his face in his hands, was Antonio. Across from the man was a plate with an omelet and bacon, a typical breakfast. Lovino took his seat across from Antonio and began to eat. The omelet was wonderful, with bursts of flavor coming from every angle. Of course he wouldn’t tell Antonio how good it was, so he silently savored the delicacy. Antonio had removed his hands from his face and stared at the man across from him. While eating, Romano examined his wrists, hoping to upset Antonio. The cuts were still fresh, but were healing over quickly. The shapes were interesting and intricate, some crossed over others but most were in horizontal lines that were swollen towards the middle and got smaller towards the edges. The artwork of cuts were so beautiful, yet so horrible. He glanced back up at Antonio with a poker face. 

    "Thanks," He frowned "for the food." With that, he stood up and walked towards the door, only to be stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off and continued to walk. Antonio jumped in front of him, in an attempt to block the way.

    "Please, just talk to me." His eyes were pleading, and Lovino thought about it for a split second. he shook the thought away and pushed his shoulder against the man in front of him. Antonio moved to the side with his head down. "I didn't do anything with her." he whispered, just loud enough for the Italian to hear 

    "Sure you didn't." He crossed his arms and turned back to face Antonio "Leading a girl into your room implies very strongly that you did nothing." He rolled his eyes and walked away, leaving the Spanish man behind him. He pondered the idea, hoping with some part of him that it was true.


End file.
